


Present Tense

by TheNarator



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode Tag: 2x17 Flashback, Fluff, Friendship, Kisses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-03 06:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6600196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNarator/pseuds/TheNarator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Barry changes the past, Cisco vibes on the previous timeline. Emotions ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Time

**Author's Note:**

> basically just a little thing inspired by "flash back," not to be taken too seriously.

The weirdest thing by far was how Hartley would just turn up. The day would be completely normal, and Barry could almost fool himself into thinking that he hadn’t altered the timeline too drastically, when suddenly he’d walk into STAR Labs to find Hartley in the Cortex. It didn’t matter if he was working on something with Cisco or talking quietly with Caitlin, he was just _there_ , without warning or explanation.

It was _weird._

It was also weird how Hartley would just _talk_  to him, casually, like they were old friends. Which they were, from Hartley’s perspective, but that didn’t make it feel any less jarring when a person he remembered flat-out trying to kill him started talking to him as if it had never happened. Which technically it _hadn’t_ , Barry knew that, but it was still weird.

Case in point, their current conversation.

“Have you noticed anything off about Cisco lately?” Hartley asked, sounding like he was trying very hard not to seem too interested. They were in the Cortex, Barry shuffling through a pile of papers while Hartley sat across from him.

“Um,” Barry said, thinking. There was a knee-jerk instinct not to tell Hartley too much, but honestly he couldn’t think of anything anyway. “No, not really.”

“Oh,” Hartley sounded oddly dejected, like he’d been hoping something was wrong.

Barry glowered at that. “Why do you ask?” he wanted to know, pausing to glance up at Hartley.

“No reason,” Hartley shrugged with entirely unconvincing nonchalance. “I just thought maybe something was wrong.”

“Have _you_  noticed something wrong then?” Barry challenged.

At Hartley’s surprised look Barry realized that might have come off a bit combative.

“To make you think that, I mean,” he amended quickly, looking down at the pile of papers again.

Hartley hesitated, then, “Remember that thing we were talking about last week?” he began.

Barry most certainly did not remember. “Uh,” he fumbled for an excuse, “a lot’s been going on lately.”

“You know,” Hartley squirmed uncomfortably, “how Cisco and I were a thing, and then we weren’t a thing, and now that I’ve gotten everything sorted out with my parents I was kind of hoping we could be a thing again?”

Barry could think of few things that he found less comfortable than the idea of Cisco dating Pied Piper. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked pointedly.

Hartley frowned. “You seemed to think it was last week.”

_Shit!_  “Uh,” Barry stuttered, “t-that was before you had dinner with your parents. You . . . sorted stuff out, faster than I thought. I was thinking more . . . generally, not, like, right now.”

Hartley looked crestfallen. “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted, then shook himself. “Yeah, that’s probably why he’s acting like this.”

“Like what?” Barry asked nervously.

“Well,” Hartley shifted, “I . . .”

“You what?” Barry asked, tone hard. If Hartley had done something to Cisco . . .

“Nothing,” said Hartley defensively, giving Barry a funny look. “I just kissed him, that’s all.”

“You _what?_ ” Barry demanded, then at Hartley’s expression realized that was _definitely_  too combative. “I mean, now is not the time Hartley-”

“Yeah I’m getting that,” Hartley snapped. “I just . . .”

He trailed off, and Barry straightened a little to look at him more directly. He was curled in on himself, like he was afraid something was about to happen, but he wasn’t looking at Barry. His eyes were unfocused, his gaze drifting vaguely into the distance, and he looked sad.

“He looked scared,” Hartley confessed quietly. “When he pulled away Cisco gasped and looked scared, and then he ran off, and I . . .” Hartley swallowed. “He’s never done that before.”

Suddenly Barry knew what was happening. Hartley had kissed Cisco, and as a result Cisco had vibed on the previous timeline. He had seen Hartley doing something, hurting one of them, and he’d panicked.

Now it was Barry’s turn to panic. What if he didn’t realize it was an alternate timeline? What if he thought he’d seen the future? What if he did something to stop what he’d seen, only to unwittingly cause Hartley to betray them?

“I’ll talk to him,” said Barry quickly, turning to go.

“Wait!” Hartley called before Barry could activate his speed. “No, this is my responsibility. I did this, I have to-”

“Hartley,” Barry cut him off, “I think he vibed.”

Hartley blinked, as though this possibility had never occurred to him. “You think so?”

“Pretty sure,” Barry told him, “I’m gonna go talk to him about it.”

Without leaving time for Hartley to answer, Barry sped out of the Cortex in search of Cisco.

***

Apparently Hartley had helped chase Harry out of Cisco’s lab at some point, because it seemed once again to be somewhere Cisco could retreat to. Vaguely Barry wondered why he’d never thought to do that, but pondering the minute differences between timelines would have to wait. As expected without Harry there Cisco had holed up in his lab, but he looked up from the incomprehensible device he’d been tinkering with when Barry entered.

Before Barry could speak Cisco’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, and then widened in disbelief.

“You!” he said suddenly, standing up to gesture at Barry with the tool he’d been holding. “Why didn’t you tell us Hartley was evil?”

“Look, whatever you think you saw it wasn’t the future,” Barry began hurriedly, “I swear-”

“I know it wasn’t the future,” Cisco waved that away, “it was what the timeline was like before you _changed it.”_

“Oh,” said Barry in surprise. “Wait, then why are you mad at me?”

“You didn’t say anything!” Cisco accused, coming around the desk to walk briskly toward Barry. Barry half expected Cisco to deck him or something, judging by the look on his face, so he was surprised when Cisco instead pulled him into a tight hug.

“This must have been _so_  weird for you,” Cisco said into Barry’s shoulder. “We wouldn’t have had him around as much if you’d just _said_  something!”

“Would you really have cut a friend out of your life just because they made me uncomfortable?” Barry asked skeptically, giving Cisco one good squeeze -- which he felt they both needed -- before letting go. “Especially Hartley, who you apparently _dated?”_

Cisco blushed. “Yeah, you wouldn’t remember that would you?”

“At some point you’re going to give me all of the details,” Barry assured him. “Right now though? Tell me how you’re doing.”

“I’m not sure,” Cisco admitted, chewing on his lip. “I mean, Hartley’s been there for us a lot over the last year. He helped you and Ronnie and Oliver take down Wells. He almost blasted Harry through a wall!”

Barry laughed a little at that image. He hadn’t seen Hartley and Wells’ doppleganger interact yet, but he could hazard a guess that they wouldn’t get along.

“He’s not really what you’d call part of the team, but he’s one of us,” Cisco finished, a little despairingly.

“See?” Barry said. “We can’t exactly kick him out of the club.”

“Dude, you _are_  the club,” Cisco rolled his eyes. “You’re the reason there _is_  a club. Hartley remembers what his plan was, okay? If you talk to him he’ll understand.”

Barry shook his head. “I think the person who needs to talk to Hartley is you,” he said pointedly.

Cisco looked down. “I don’t think he wants to talk to me right now,” he said. “I vibed on the previous timeline when . . . when he . . .”

“Kissed you?” Barry finished for him. “He told me,” he went on at Cisco’s surprised look. “I think that’s exactly _why_  you need to talk to him.”

“But I freaked out!” Cisco protested. “I started babbling gibberish and then I ran off. You should have seen the look on his face . . .” he trailed off, looking pained.

“Cisco,” Barry took him by the shoulders, “you need to talk to Hartley. He thinks he did something wrong.”

“But!” Cisco spluttered. “It was all me!”

“He’s the one who kissed you though,” Barry reminded him. “He thinks you didn’t want it.”

“That’s not it though!” Cisco argued. “It’s just that I saw him, well, _killing_ you, and I knew it was an alternate timeline so it never happened and never will, but it just made me really confused about how I felt and I was _already_  confused about how I felt so-”

“Cisco,” Barry interrupted. “Why are you telling _me_  this?”

Cisco paused. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, frowning adorably as he tried to sort out his thoughts. It made Barry want to laugh, and also made him understand just a little bit of the reason why Hartley would want to kiss him. Cisco really was very cute sometimes.

At last Cisco nodded decisively. “You’re right,” he said firmly, as though steeling himself for what came next, then turned and hurried out of the lab.

“He’s in the Cortex!” Barry called helpfully after him, grinning slightly to himself.

Hartley might not be such a bad addition to the team after all.

***

Hartley wasn’t in the Cortex actually, and was in fact on his way out of STAR Labs when Cisco caught up with him.

“Wait!” Cisco called at Hartley’s retreating back, stumbling to a halt just behind him.

Hartley turned, surprised. “Cisco?” he said nervously. “Did Barry-”

“Yes,” Cisco cut him off, “and I think we should talk.”

To Cisco’s surprise, Hartley blushed. “You don’t have to,” he said, eyes closed in mortification. “You don’t have to explain it to me.”

“But I do,” Cisco assured him earnestly. “I had a vibe Hart, when you . . . you know.”

“Oh,” Hartley blinked, “is that what you . . . I mean, of course that’s what you wanted to talk about.”

“I wanna talk about the other thing too,” Cisco told him, “but, first can we go somewhere that’s not the middle of a hallway?”

Hartley nodded.

Thankfully Barry had cleared out by the time they got back to Cisco’s lab. Cisco led the way inside, then turned awkwardly to face Hartley. Hartley was shifting nervously from foot to foot, looking supremely uncomfortable. It would almost have been cute, if Cisco hadn’t been so nervous himself.

“You wanna sit down?” he asked, gesturing at one of the rolling chairs.

“Is this the kind of talk I want to be sitting for?” Hartley responded.

“I don’t know,” Cisco admitted, “maybe? Let’s just sit, alright?”

Hartley sat in the chair Cisco had indicated and Cisco rolled another chair over to face his.

“So,” prompted Hartley once they were both seated. “Your vibe?”

“Yeah,” Cisco replied, trying to gather his thoughts.

He’d seen a lot, during that vision, but there was a lot he hadn’t seen as well. Things that would have been different not for something Hartley had done, but merely for his absence. There were some things Cisco wasn’t even sure how they’d accomplished without Hartley’s help, like capturing Dr. Wells, even if Hartley had promptly vanished once he was in the pipeline. How had that Hartley, the other Hartley, reacted to the news of Wells’ death?

Cisco shook himself, focusing instead on what he _had_  seen.

“So, when Barry went back in time he did some stuff,” Cisco began.

Hartley snorted. “No kidding,” he retorted.

“No, I mean he changed things,” Cisco clarified. “The timeline he came from was different than this one.”

“How different?” Hartley wanted to know.

Cisco hesitated. He didn’t want to, but-

“You weren’t in it,” he said at last.

“Oh,” said Hartley, a little surprised. “Did I die?”

“No,” Cisco said hurriedly, “you survived, only . . . only you did something. Something that meant you couldn’t be here with us.”

“Oh,” Hartley repeated, a look of distressed realization in his eyes. “I see. Without the Time Wraith to interrupt I went through with my plan.”

Cisco nodded.

“That’s what you saw.”

Cisco nodded again.

“And I . . .”

“I didn’t see the rest,” Cisco explained, “but I can’t imagine us working with someone who tried to kill Barry.”

“That’s why he seems so uncomfortable around me,” Hartley deduced. “The last time he saw me I tried to kill him.”

“Yeah,” Cisco confirmed, “that would be the reason.”

“And, in that timeline,” Hartley went on, and his voice weak and fragile, “you and I were never together.”

Cisco shook his head.

“So,” said Hartley shakily, “I guess that means . . . you probably don’t-”

“No!” Cisco interjected, realizing suddenly what Hartley had assumed. “We weren’t together in that timeline, no, but we are in this one! I don’t want you to think-”

“Are?” Hartley interjected.

Cisco blinked. “What?”

“You said ‘we _are_ together’,” Hartley told him, and there was a glimmer of something like hope in his eyes. “Present tense.”

Cisco blushed but didn’t look down. “Yeah,” he said quietly, leaning in, “I guess I did.”

This time, Cisco kissed Hartley. It wasn’t frenzied and passionate, like their first, or lingering and sad, like their last but one. It was slow, tentative at first, building patiently into something more than just a gentle press of lips.

“Wow,” said Cisco when he pulled away.

“Wow indeed,” Hartley concurred, a little breathlessly.

“Do you wanna,” Cisco shrugged, “grab an early dinner or something?”

Hartley smiled brightly, then pecked Cisco on the lips again. “I’d like that.”


	2. Next Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wasn't planning to continue this story, but i had the idea for another pseudo-hartmon thing and i figured why not just set it in the same 'verse?

When Cisco Ramon woke up tied to a chair, his first thought was, _Well, guess it’s my turn._

It was only fair really: Caitlin had been the last kidnap victim, Iris had a lot going on right now and Joe was a cop, so there were only so many times he could get kidnapped before people started asking questions. Cisco was the only one who both hadn’t been kidnapped in a while and wouldn’t be terribly inconvenienced by it. Really, it was for the best.

The last thing he remembered was walking to his car, at which point everything had gone black for no obvious reason. The back of his head didn’t hurt, and he didn’t feel the tell-tale ache of a taser burn, so he could only imagine that whoever had abducted him had used some metahuman ability to knock him out. _Wonderful_ , he thought. _This is exactly what Barry needs right now._

Hopefully, though, he could take care of this without Barry.

Cisco opened his eyes blearily, blinking and trying to take in his surroundings. He looked to be in an abandoned building of some kind, as the room was lit only by a single bare bulb and a boarded up window, with broken furniture everywhere and the whole place covered in a fine layer of dust. A short, hunched figure in a green hood was sifting through the contents of a table, much of which looked to be items from his lab. The person had their back to him, so he couldn’t see their face, but it was pretty obvious what they wanted.

Cisco tugged at the ropes that bound him to the chair, but there was no give at all. Inwardly cursing, he turned his attention back to the hooded figure.

“Hey,” Cisco croaked, then cleared his throat. It felt like he hadn’t spoke in ages.

Before he could say any more however, Green Hood whirled around.

“Francisco!” he said delightedly.

“Hartley?” Cisco asked in disbelief. It was unmistakably Hartley Rathaway standing before him, but he looked . . . different, somehow. He held himself differently, his smile was slightly off, and his eyes glinted with a strange light that made Cisco extremely uncomfortable.

Okay, not Hartley.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” said Not-Hartley excitedly, coming to kneel in front of him.

“Who _are_  you?” Cisco wanted to know.

Not-Hartley frowned. “Francisco, it’s me,” he said in a wounded tone of voice, “it’s Hart.”

_Francisco . . ._

“Oh,” Cisco realized with a slight sinking feeling, “you’re Hartley’s doppleganger.”

E2-Hartley smiled. “Of course we would know each other on this Earth too,” he speculated. “We’re made for each other, after all.”

That was a very creepy sentence, and Hart followed it up with an even creepier caress to Cisco’s face. Cisco leaned away as far as he could reach, but there was only so far he could go without tipping over the chair, which he felt was likely to result in a broken arm. He shook his head as hard as he could and Hart drew his hand away.

“What do you want?” Cisco asked, a little afraid he already knew the answer. “Is this about Reverb’s death? Because-”

“He’s not dead!” Hart hissed, and to Cisco surprise actually smacked him across the face. “He said the two of you were a part of each other, which means part of him is still alive!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Cisco replied skeptically.

“Then that’s how I’ll _make_ it work!” Hart hissed.

He surged up and forced his lips onto Cisco’s. Cisco let his mouth go slack more out of surprise than anything, and Hart took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Eventually Cisco’s brain caught up with what was happening and he wrenched his mouth away, but Hart simply drew back and looked at him anxiously.

Reason number four that this was Definitely Not Hartley: their kisses were _nothing_  alike.

“Francisco?” Hart asked nervously.

Cisco sighed. His cheek still stung, but he could appreciate what was happening here. Clearly Reverb and Pied Piper had been some kind of villainous power couple on Earth-2, and now that Reverb was gone . . .

“Look, I know you’re hurting,” Cisco tried, “but I’m not him.”

“You can be,” Hart insisted. “You will be. I just have to get you home and then you’ll start to remember.”

With that he stood up and turned his back on Cisco again, going to the table to begin shoving things into a bag.

 _This is bad,_  Cisco thought. If Hart actually found a way to get him to Earth-2 then there was no telling if he’d be able to use that same route to get back. He didn’t know how close Barry was to finding him, hell he didn’t know if Barry was _looking_  for him yet, so he had to figure a way out of this before Hart got them through the breach.

“We must have been . . . really good together, if you’re taking his, I mean, _my_ death this hard,” Cisco piped up, and Hart stopped his packing but didn’t turn around yet.

“Yeah,” he said sadly, “we were.” Abruptly he turned, beaming at Cisco. “And we will be again,” he assured his captive, “just as soon as we get home.”

“I must have made you really happy,” Cisco went on, shifting in his chair as though uncomfortable. It had the desired effect, and Hart came to kneel before him again, looking concerned.

“You did,” Hart told him, caressing his cheek again, and this time Cisco didn’t fight. “Oh Francisco you make me _so_  happy.”

“I want you to be happy, but-” Cisco shrugged awkwardly in his bonds, “-I can’t make you happy like this.”

Hart’s face took on an expression that was almost painfully hopeful. “Francisco?”

Cisco swallowed, then forced his face into a painful smile. “Hart?” he asked coyly.

Hart kissed him again, and while Cisco couldn’t quite bring himself to kiss back he fought the urge to pull away before Hart did. Hart then produced a knife, and Cisco panicked for a moment before the breacher began cutting at the ropes that bound him.

“I knew you’d remember,” Hart said once Cisco was free, turning his back once more to continue shoving things into the bag. “I just want to take a few things from this Earth back with us, and then we can-”

He stopped talking at that point because Cisco had picked up a broken chair leg and hit him on the back of the head with it.

It was indeed an abandoned building Hart had brought him to, Cisco discovered as he made his way out of it. It looked to be some kind of apartment building, and as Cisco walked out the front door he felt that he’d be lucky to not find a wrecking ball headed straight for the room he’d just been in.

As soon as he was outside however, Cisco found himself suddenly mobbed by a very agitated Barry Allen.

“Cisco!” Barry cried, wrapping him up in a tight hug that nearly lifted him off his feet.

“Barry?” Cisco asked in confusion. Barry wasn’t in his Flash suit, so he had come in his civilian capacity, and despite the speed with which he’d glomped Cisco he hadn’t used his powers.

Cisco knew that Barry hadn’t used his powers because the street was full of cops.

Over Barry’s shoulder Cisco could see three police cars and no less than six detectives, including Joe, crowded around the front entrance. Out of a fourth car stepped Captain Singh, looking very grim and serious and with his gun at the ready, and Caitlin was getting out of his car’s passenger side. Hartley too was emerging from Singh’s back seat, already wearing his power gloves and looking downright murderous, and Dante was close behind him.

“What is everyone doing here?” Cisco asked against Barry’s shoulder.

“Dude,” Barry said, pulling away but refusing to let go of Cisco’s shoulders, “we came to rescue you! Everyone _freaked_ when we realized you were gone, the Captain had to stop the whole friggin precinct from coming when we tracked your phone here.”

“The whole precinct wanted to come?” Cisco asked skeptically.

Barry just pulled him into another hug.

Barry’s heartbeat always skyrocketed when he ran, but despite the fact that he hadn’t used his powers it was beating rabbit-fast against Cisco’s chest. Had he that been afraid? For Cisco?

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Cisco said quietly.

“Kid you’re the last person here who needs to apologize,” Joe said, coming up behind Barry. Once Barry let go and stepped back, Joe pulled Cisco into a hug of his own. “We’re glad you’re okay.”

Cisco was quickly hustled away from the building and into the midst of the waiting cops. Most of them tussled his hair and expressed their relief that he was okay, until Caitlin forced her way between then and threw herself into Cisco’s arms, squeezing him so tight he could barely breathe.

“Sorry we’re late,” Dante said, clapping Cisco on the shoulder as Caitlin continued her hug.

“That’s okay,” Cisco assured him, smiling weakly.

“Where are the bastards?” Singh wanted to know, coming up beside Dante to address Cisco over Caitlin’s shoulder.

Cisco suddenly realized that his kidnappered looked identical to Hartley. “They, uh, left,” Cisco said hurriedly. “There’s no one in there. They left me alone and I, uh, got free.”

“One of these days we’re actually going to get here in time to rescue you,” Caitlin promised against the side of his head.

“Maybe next time,” Cisco speculated as she finally pulled away.

At last Cisco found himself facing Hartley, and he wasted no time walking straight into his arms. They held each other for a moment, before Hartley pulled away just enough to cup Cisco’s face in his hands.

“You scared me,” he confessed quietly.

“Sorry,” Cisco murmured. By way of apology he pressed his lips to Hartley’s, kissing him soft and sweet.

Dante, Captain Singh and Caitlin averted their eyes, Caitlin grinning and the Captain with the barest hint of a smile. Dante wore a look of mock disgust, but he couldn’t help smiling too.

Hartley pulled Cisco into his embrace again. “I really am sorry we’re late,” he whispered against Cisco’s hair.

“That’s okay,” Cisco repeated. “I’m just really, really glad you’re not a psycho metahuman stalker.”

“What?”


End file.
